She wanted the seeds to grow.
She wanted her words to mean something. You know, resonate a little.
Not an unreasonable request.
Stop and smell the roses in the dead of winter.
The dried limb bends to the ground from the weight of the snow.
The weight of her heart. Heavy.
The sunset peeking over the hill at the end of the day.
The day that ended with warm tears.
Tears.
She thought she ran out.
The outpouring of hot tears, tears she wanted to save for joy.
The joy that is on the way.
She wanted you to understand. To hear her, she wanted to hear you. Common ground.
Most of all, she wanted to love you. Real love. Black love. All love. That is all.
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